


Interpretation

by hawkstout



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Artist AU, Love at First Sight, M/M, Normal lives AU, nothing actually happens though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkstout/pseuds/hawkstout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian wants someone to understand his art. He sees its perfect embodiment at the circus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interpretation

**Author's Note:**

> So my hand is wrapped in a bandage and it’s gotten in the way of my typing so I’m doing a bunch of short fic prompts while I wait for it to heal so I can go back to my long fics. They’re all 500 words or less.
> 
> Anon’s Prompt:
> 
> DickDamian at the circus?
> 
>  
> 
> Once again I probably interpreted this wrong, but they are at the circus? Sorry.

His art had always disturbed his father. When he was ten the family butler, Pennyworth, went digging through his things. He found his sketch book. It was filled with macabre images of monsters and death. Twisted bodies, broken heroes, hangmen, devils and vampire bats.

This lead to several years of therapy and resentment. It was also a waste of money. Damian continued to draw and then paint. He painted the city as it was: dark, scarred, mutated, hopeless.

The art critics loved it.

Of course they loved it. It helped being the son of Bruce Wayne. The buzz involved with Wayne’s son having such a dark perspective blew up the arts section in the newspapers.

Damian didn’t care either way if he was successful or not. He was set to inherit a billion dollar fortune, and his inattentive father was constantly making up for his absence with money. In fact, his popularity pissed him off. No one understood what he was saying. Even when he explained it, no one saw it.

This is Gotham.

He was at a circus musing on it. Not that he was a fan of the circus, but it always gave him good material. Clowns, freaks, twisted fantasies.

He sighed staring at the clown in one of the playbills. He was getting stale. He felt stale. The critics still loved him and his style, but honestly? Damian was getting bored. It was all there, it was all in his heart, but he was tired of putting it on paper. Gotham City as it really was. It wasn’t art it was a literal snap shot.

“Grayson: Flying Solo.” He paused. It was a picture of a man. He was painted with a large smile and daring blue eyes.

Worth checking out.

The acrobat was beautiful. Physically, yes, but that’s not what Damian was thinking as he watched the highwire act. He flew through the air flipping and diving and even from down below his joy was obvious. Unconsciously Damian took out the picture he had been drawing. A wicked looking bat. His pencil moved in a fury. Soon the shadowed dark bat was joined by a light side. A joyous Robin flew as if out of the picture.

Damian’s hands were shaking. He had never felt so… he had never felt so moved before.

Fearless, effusive… full of grace.

And that was Gotham too he realized in a rush.

He fled as soon as the acrobat took his bow.


End file.
